Final Fantasy - All Series Fan Fiction / Legend Of Zelda Fan Fiction / Devil May Cry - Series Fan Fiction ❯ Knights of the Realms ❯ Ch 1 - Awake ( Chapter 1 )

KNIGHTS OF THE REALMS

Awake

 

Sunlight filtered down through the trees, bespeckling the forest floor with spots of brightness, dispelling the gloom. Motes of dust floated in and out of the rays, adding a lustrous, rich quality to them. The air smelled thickly of loam and mushrooms, countered by the sharp scent of pine bark. A beetle scurried into a patch of soft soil, a shrub shook gently as a squirrel passed, but for the most part, the forest was still. Most creatures were simply resting in the soft gloom of the forest afternoon. Resting and listening.

A song was carried on the breeze, a lilting tune sounding as though the forest itself was singing. A song that was as much a part of the woods as the life that flourished in it.

Somewhere in the forest, as one could never be sure of exactly where, there was a clearing dominated by two stumps, one tripling the other in height. A young man, sixteen or seventeen to look at him, sat on the shorter stump, leading the gay melody with the ocarina set to his lips. His fingers moved deftly over the holes, playing the tune in such a way that it was difficult not get up and dance.

And dance is exactly what the others in the clearing did. A young boy, looking more scarecrow than human, occasionally lent the voice of his reed flute to the melody, but mostly doing a lively jig on his precarious perch atop the taller, skinnier stump.

In the large area in between the two stumps danced a girl, her green hair flying, and three balls of light bobbing and waving around her, the small fairies taking the fun of the dance to the air. Life was good for the six in the sunlit clearing, carefree and happy in the company of friends.

It had not always been so. It was only seven short years ago that the sky above had not been so blue, that the waters of the rivers had frozen over, for the warmth of love and hope had been driven away. Seven years ago, the same clearing that held the friends had been completely consumed by shadow, had been a breeding ground for large and vicious wolves that hunted for no other reason than sport, and hunted to kill.

The land and people had cried out to the heavens for a hero, a figure they could stand behind, united against the encroaching darkness. And the heavens had heard. And the heavens had answered.

A young boy had emerged from the forest, clothed in the green of fields, and innocent to the ways of the world. His heart shone as brightly as the fairy that had befriended him. Seven years later to the world, a blink of the eye to the boy - aged to the same one playing the ocarina - the darkness was dispelled, the clouds driven back, the rivers thawed. Time was restored to its proper order; the boy was a boy once more, now given the chance to live life instead of sacrificing his years to combat evil.

The young man's sword and shield were propped against his stump, and he turned to look at them. Whenever he did, it resurfaced memories of when the world was on his shoulders. Though the times had been evil, he never wanted to forget them. To do so would be to forget all the things he had learned then, about the world, about those that lived in it, and about himself. To do so would be to forget his fairy companion, his beloved friend and most trusted ally. Forced apart by fate when time was restored, the young man had never stopped looking for her. No, he could never forget her. Never

Looking at the weapons also reminded him of how little he had had to use them in this tributary of the River of Time. Once, the magnificent blade had shone brightly with the light of evil's bane. On his second journey through life, though, the blade hardly ever shone, and the brightest it got was a dull glow. Such were the times of peace.

The young man's gaze fell over the sword and his breath caught in his throat, the sound his ocarina made mixing harshly with that of the scarecrow boy's reed flute, effectively halting the dance.

The scarecrow boy nimbly hopped to the ground, and stopped across to the young man, meaning to smack him with the flute, for he had thought his solo was particularly good, and was interrupted by the conflicting notes. He never got there, as two of the fairies, on purple, one white, flew into his forehead, knocking him to the ground, both quietly berating him.

“Hold on, Skull Kid, I think something's wrong.”

The blade of evil's bane, which had been thrust into the heart of evil, was glowing as brightly as it ever had. The Master Sword was awake, calling to its wielder.

With that realization, the young man sprang into action. Shield on arm and sword in hand, his sixth sense, the warrior's instincts that had kept him alive through so much of his life, came rushing back, flooding his being. The clearing had two entry points, the rest and impenetrable wall of trees. With the constantly shifting forest, that could mean attack form either, if not both, directions.

All eyes ere turned toward the young green haired girl, except for the young man, who still was trying to pinpoint the source of the danger. It was Tael, The purple fairy that asked what was on everyone's mind. “Saria, what's going on?”

Saria exhaled slowly and ran a hand through her cropped hair. “I…don't know, Tael. I can't sense anything that doesn't belong…” She closed her eyes and concentrated, her brow furrowed. She reached out around her, to the forest itself, searching for…what? She had no idea, and so searched for anything that might offer an explanation.

Though her body had stopped aging at the age of ten, she'd been visiting the forest for twenty-four years now. She was a kokiri, as were the rest of her village, eternal and youthful, a child of the forest. What more, she was the Forest Sage, bound to guard and nurture the spirits of the forest. No one save for the goddesses knew more about the forest than Saria.

Something brushed against her mind, a faint presence, as though the source wasn't entirely in the forest. Again, the presence brushed her mind, the push stronger this time. Something about it seemed familiar…no, it couldn't be! She hadn't felt that presence in seven years. But one final push from that presence, and there was no denying it as it passed into the forest proper.

She gasped, and cried out, a mix of joy and confusion, “It's her!”

Looks of incredulity met her proclamation, but all questions were cut short by another cry.

“Link!”

A blue shining fairy flew fast into the clearing, and Links knees buckled, nearly sending him tumbling to the earth. Navi! The fairy friend that had fought by his side through his first adventures, who he had thought lost to him until now. Could this really be happening?

He steeled his nerves and the strength returned to his legs when he realized that if Navi was indeed real, then so was the pig faced monster bearing down behind her.

He quickly sheathed his sword, then pulled out his bow, nocked an arrow, and let fly all in one fluid motion. The arrow flew between the eyes, exiting through the back of the head to thud into a tree, so taut was the bowstring, so fierce was his anger that someone should threaten his Navi! He nocked another arrow and drew a bead on the prone creature, then began a caution stalk towards it.

Its muscular frame was covered in shaggy hair. A leather and metal cuirass protected its chest, and a long iron sword, evilly curved and full of burs and chips, was clenched in its hand. Its face was brutish, large of mouth and small of eyes. Sharp, gnarly teeth were yellowed with decay, and were dwarfed by two tusks jutting out from the bottom jaw. Link had no idea what it was, but heard more coming through the woods. A lot more, judging by the amount of howls and grunts, and fast.

“Back to the village!” yelled Navi to the assembled group. “We'll hold them off as long as we can!”

“Not without me you're not.” The white fairy, sister of Tael, flew up beside Navi. “This kid's stubborn, and won't leave `til he either kills them all or dies trying.”

Any argument on Navi or Links part was summarily cut off as the leading edge of the brutish horde burst into the clearing. He drew his sword again, and was tossing and catching a little diamond that glowed with an inner fire. The horde kept pouring into the clearing, the forerunners surrounding him, barely five steps away. Link smiled.

It had been a long time since he'd been able to have fun like this.

It was when they were a step away, weapons raised to cut him down, that he slammed the diamond into the ground. A great gout of flame shot up, then expanded into a fireball, until it reached the trees, burning only the horde and nothing else with its magical flames. Those on the edges of the inferno came to a hasty halt, none eager enough for the kill to enter. At the heart of the fire, Link and the beasts were no more than black outlines; hazy figures distorted further by the intense heat hat stung the eyes of the halted horde. That did nothing, though, to hide the skill with which Link wielded the Master Sword. He cut down those beasts still standing in the flames, thrusting into them or r slashing viciously, leaving their life blood to pour our onto the ground. Only one swordsman they knew of possessed such skill, and Links blacked out sillouhette only furthered the loss of morale in the assembled throng. Had the drow followed them here?

The fire dissipated, and there stood Link amid the bodies, a light sheen of sweat coating him, the Master Sword bleeding the blood of his enemies.

The image told the beastly horde two things: That this swordsman was not the drow ranger as they had feared, but also that they had no desire to press the attack further. The leading edge turned to flee, but was met by those behind them, not having seen the devastation Link had wrought, pressing to get forward.

“Link, look!” cried Tatl, the white fairy.

Link looked to where Tatl had indicated, to the far back of the horde, to what was keeping them from retreating more effectively than the confused monsters in the middle. It was a man, that much was clear, and all that was clear. He was moving to fast to be anything more than a dark blur, a fleeting shadow in the already shady forest. What caught Links eye, and what made the fires in his eyes burn all the more fiercely, was the sword. The sword glinted from the dappled sunlight, and was one of the two that the man wielded, the only clearly defined detail of the man.

But that sword…

Link had battled that type of sword only once before, back in a different offshoot of time. It was a great sword, long, broad, and with a curving tip; a sword made for chopping and not thrusting. Only one such sword had existed in all of Hyrule, the land the defended. Only one man had held that sword, the man who sought to enslave Hyrule.

Ganondorf! The most evil man to walk the earth, the penultimate reason for the loss of Links childhood. But how could it be? Link had sealed him away into the Abyss ten years ago. Hadn't the world suffered enough at his hands?

Whatever the reason, the fact of the matter was that he was here now. Two score of the horde still remained. They fled the enemy at their backs and charged t the momentarily passive Link. Two score of the vicious creatures caught between him and his hated foe. They came at him with a savage ferocity driven by their will to survive.

They never stood a chance.

Link came at them spinning, his animalistic rage pushing him to a new level of prowess. The fairies watched as he stopped the charge and began pushing it back with the ferocity of his attack. The fairies were astonished. Never before had either seen their Hylian friend fight so viciously. Their usual place in battle was to fly close to the enemy to aid his targeting, or to hover above, acting as extra sets of eyes. This new Link, full of rage that coursed through his veins, was in need of no help. Wading through the dead and dying, cutting and hacking his way through the horde, his eyes burning as brightly as the blade he held. With the Master Sword in front and the great sword behind, the monster horde was soon cut down to a lone wretch.

It looked back and forth between the two swordsmen, not knowing what to do, but neither paid it any heed. Both fighters focused on the other.

Ganondorf had changed, Link noticed. His hair had grown out long, and was now a dirty white. Thinner than Link remembered, too, and with another sword strapped on his back. But no matter the circumstances, Link would always rise to seal evil away to where it belongs, even if it meant his life.

The lone survivor of the massacre let out a guttural bark, presumably a curse, and leapt out at Link in a desperate attempt to land a blow before it fell. Its unsuccessful attack left the Master Sword with a fresh coat of blood, and provided Link with a clear path to his white haired foe, which he readily took. Wanting to give no time for spell casting, he charged straight ahead. The white haired man brushed the hair from his eyes, and Link saw that this was not Ganondorf.

But his confusion did nothing to deter his battle lust. A far as he was concerned, anyone wielding such a great sword in Hyrule was evil. He leapt, bringing his weapon to bear in an over head chop.

“Link, stop!” Only his reflexes, honed from a lifetime of training, allowed him to turn his blade so as not to strike Navi, who had flew in between the blade and the man.

Immediately sobered at what he'd almost done, he backed off cautiously, waiting for an explanation.

“This man,” started Navi, “is not your enemy. He's a friend, and he's been helping me find my way back to you. He's - “ The man held up his hand, cutting the fairy off.

“I am,” said the man, “the Drifter.”